


What's a copper to do?

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, Gen, Moral Dilemmas, Pre-Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: Everyone has an opinion as to what should be done. But THEY don't have to decide. THEY don't have to do it. Greg does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hope_Austen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope_Austen/gifts), [Stuck_on_the_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stuck_on_the_sun/gifts), [Valandhir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valandhir/gifts).



> As a copper, Inspector Lestrade is accustomed to situations where the facts are anything but clear cut. But when it involves his friends, HE is in need of advice. Enter The British Government.
> 
> A follow-up to "Who THEY think we are." Again, this is before John meets the Sister.

Greg Lestrade wasn't a policeman, he had been at the job too many years. He was a copper, born of a time where political correctness referred to the behavior of the members of the Houses of Parliament, NOT police procedure.

 

He had been confronted with violence, terrorism, unspeakable perversion and death. Today, however, he had sat across the table in an interrogation room from his friend John Watson. The conversation was dark and painful, peppered with questions, "Did you know?", and admissions, "I hit him HARD."

 

He left the station bereft and confused. The public, fueled by media reports of eye witness accounts, was railing for police action concerning the "alleged" (shit Greg hated that word) attempted murder of Sherlock Holmes by accused serial killer Culverton Smith. Also the topic of rage, the "alleged" assault and battery of Sherlock at the hands of John.

 

"This investigation is yours Lestrade," his Boss had said. "Clear 'em, crucify 'em, I can't be arsed to care. Just deal with it."

 

Deal with it, as if talking about a traffic stop, or shoplifting. This wasn't petty crime, it was serious, and it was his friends.

 

Thus it was that he found himself admitted by armed guard into the inner sanctum of The British Government. Mycroft didn't rise from his chair but nodded to indicate Greg should sit.

 

"Thank you for seeing me Mycroft, I seriously need your advice." The tone of voice was respectful and sincere. Greg thought the older Holmes could be a prick, but he had no doubts about the man's devotion to his brother.

 

"Not at all Gregory. I am aware you are facing a moral dilemma concerning my brother and Doctor Watson. I am assuming you do not face a similar conundrum where Culverton Smith is concerned."

 

"Christ no! The maniac is still confessing. It's like he's getting off on it like porn. Filthy bastard! But Mycroft, this bloody mess with Sherlock and John, I don't know what the fuck to do. Sorry."

 

"No need. The fact that my language is less 'colorful' shall we say, does NOT mean the words aren't in my thoughts. First in importance, are there any videos of the 'incident'?"

 

"Thank Christ no. Most of the muck is coming from some of the hospital staff the tabloids have 'compensated' for details."

 

"These details are accurate?"

 

"Far as they go. Mostly they focus on John punching and kicking Sherlock. The before and after don't hold much 'juice' for the gossip rags. Funny that, and not in a good way. You'd think John breaking down a door and saving Sherlock from being suffocated would count for something."

 

"Regretfully not as sensational, however. Very well, how to proceed. You are aware Gregory that Sherlock and I frequently engage in highly competitive gamesmanship."

 

Greg blinked at the strange change of topic. "Ya mean like chess and backgammon and the like?"

 

"Precisely. What you may not know is, this competition goes back to our childhood. Simple at the start, puzzles, board games, Old Maid. I see you smiling Gregory. For reference, I wasn't born holding my umbrella, I WAS young once."

 

"Not laughing, just never pictured the two of you like THAT."

 

"Not many do. At any rate, after a time, Sherlock discovered dominos. He would spend hours setting up elaborate patterns that covered the floor like exotic wooden carpets. Then the moment of truth when he would tip the first domino to set his 'sculptures' in motion. His every endeavor was flawlessly executed without fail."

 

Greg snorted, "'Course they were, after all it's Himself we're talking about."

 

"True, but each time, despite my timely reminders that tipping that first domino would ultimately destroy his masterpiece, the end result was tears. On some level, his young mind grasped the concept of the carnage he was unleashing, but the excitement of the brief satisfaction it would bring outweighed the consequences. Do you see my meaning Gregory?"

 

"God help me I do. If I tip that first piece, the GAME is over. For all of us."

 

"At this juncture, no one knows the true details of the murder of Mary Watson. John married and Sherlock befriended a hired assassin. Who, coincidentally, as the public does NOT know, nearly killed my brother. To reveal her former life is to put a great many agents of our realm in great peril."

 

Greg accepted the whiskey Mycroft offered and sighed. "The Public also really knows very little about the drug abuse. They sure as hell don't know the whole shit-fest started because Sherlock was half out of his mind and threatening a room full of people with a razor sharp scalpel. That's going to make him less heroic."

 

"At the very least. Few are going to care that the drugs were a misguided effort to 'rescue' John from himself. Makes Sherlock appear, as the doctor would say, bit not good." 

 

"Add to that, John's anger was a result of too many traumas one after the next. Those things are John's private sorrows. What good comes of revealing those? None. But then what DO I do?"

 

Mycroft leaned forward with a look of intense concentration on his face and took a deep breath. "You choose the fleeting gratification of destruction, or you allow the current 'structure' however warped and flawed to remain with the hope of repair."

 

"So you're saying use my own discretion. Like it was a plan to capture Smith that went awry."

 

"Exactly so, for example, Smith had been subjecting his friends and confidants, even his daughter to mind altering drugs."

 

"Yeah, and when Sherlock got too close to the truth, Smith drugged him. He went wild against his will."

 

"It was at that point that, contrary to all his instincts, John had to step in and subdue Sherlock so his friend was no longer a danger to others or himself."

 

"That will hold up Mycroft. Explains too, Smith trying to kill your brother in cold blood. John saves Sherlock and Sherlock captures the serial killer. Win win. Except we both know it isn't."

 

"Without question Gregory, but it IS an acceptable foundation for the rebuilding of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. We can be the architects, but they must do the construction."

 

"Have to be honest, Mycroft. At first, I felt like slugging John, but Jesus Christ, his face, his eyes. Empty except for pain and loss. I couldn't raise a hand to him. Don't know what that makes me."

 

"A friend to both of them first. A 'copper', is it?, second. Never make the mistake of thinking, however, that I am unaware of each time John has struck Sherlock. He is a man who was raised with and lived in violence. Violence begets violence and that is his hurdle to overcome. IF he does not, I promise you, it will be at his peril."

 

"I believe you Mycroft."

 

"That being said, although provocation does not excuse violence, Sherlock has been verbally and emotionally abusing John from the very start." 

 

"That's hard to hear mate." (Mate? Greg felt himself blush, must be the whiskey.) "But that doesn't make it less true. Never have understood how the two of them have been together this long without murdering each other."

 

"Their's is a strange but symbiotic relationship. Oil and water, or more aptly pain and pleasure. It should not work, yet it does, for them."

 

"It does. So for the Public who want a pound of flesh, we give them what THEY want. Just not HOW THEY want. All the dirt with none of the damage. Help my friends, but don't topple the dominos."

 

"It should suffice Gregory. My thanks."

 

"Feels like the proper thing to do. For everyone."

 

"It is fortunate this fell to you Gregory."

 

"You mean for the sake of Sherlock and John?"

 

"No for the sake of others. John and Sherlock may not always interact in a healthy fashion with one another, but of one thing I am more certain than I am that there will always be an England. Those who seek to come between my brother and his blogger will find those two standing back to back against the world. Then, at the end of the battle, Sherlock and John will walk away together, and it is THEY who will be left stone cold dead on the floor."

**Author's Note:**

> Moral dilemmas are called that for a reason. Life is hard enough, figuring out HOW to live is often impossible.
> 
> It's well to remember that when one domino falls, destruction often follows.
> 
> For Hope_Austen, Stuck_on_the_sun, and Valandhir who recognize that seeing the world as an adult can be difficult but necessary.


End file.
